


The Space Between

by The_White_Rabbit42



Series: The Best Laid Plans [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Grace Kink, Smut, Wing Kink, oral sex (male receiving), unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-03-14
Packaged: 2018-10-05 05:37:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10298786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_White_Rabbit42/pseuds/The_White_Rabbit42
Summary: As thoughts of Gabriel won't leave your mind, you find yourself distracted. Relief, however, ends up being only a snap away.  Set one week after The Best Laid Plans.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the March @Gabriel-Monthly-Challenge dialogue prompt: 
> 
> “I can’t believe you thought I punched him. No, I slammed a shovel into his face. Big difference.”

_He was everywhere.  His touch was ghosting over you, trailing paths of feather-light sensation across your stomach, over the dip in your waist, around your back and up your spine, causing goosebumps to scatter across skin as he hit that magical spot between your shoulder blades._

 

_You were still getting used to the fact that none of this was with his hands._

 

_One remained planted on your hip, tips of fingers digging insistently into your jeans as he held you flush against him.  The other remained tangled in your hair, coaxing back your head as his tongue swept across your lower lip, seeking entrance._

 

_He tasted like heaven.  It was as if everything from the clouds to the stars was on the tip of his tongue, teasing your taste buds as he explored your mouth.  You moaned into him, that ethereal touch whispering over the sensitive skin along your neck before disappearing altogether._

 

_The smell of wanton energy and heat singed across air and it was like the world was igniting around you, not quite burning, not wholly not.  The smell of baked goods had faded away to something different, something otherworldly.  You couldn’t quite perceive it, your senses not strong enough to truly experience it, but you could tell it was there._

 

_There was so much of him around you, filling the room to the brim, and you couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like when he filled you._

 

“Uhhh, you alright, y/n?”  The uncomfortable look on Sam’s face suggested you had, indeed, been zoning out in his general direction again.  You cleared your throat, wishing it was just as easy to clear the awkwardness you kept creating.  You couldn’t help that your eyes naturally rested on the most aesthetically pleasing thing in the room when entering the hundred yard stare.  Maybe if he’d put on a shirt that actually fit him correctly, you wouldn’t be staring at the way fabric stretched across that perfect broad chest of his.

 

_God, please don’t let him start wearing shirts that fit correctly._

 

That was probably the first actual prayer you’d sent the Almighty since you were a little girl.  My how the content had changed.  

 

Dean’s stare bore down on you from the other end of the table.  It had only been a week since the Valentine’s Day debacle and he was still giving you the hairy eyeball.  Mostly because while it had been a disaster for them it had clearly not been one for you.  

 

They assumed your sudden liveliness was due to their misfortune which added insult to their injured pride.  You, on the other hand, just hadn’t realized how much tension you’d been carrying around until you had been able to release it.   

 

That tension, however, hadn’t taken long to rebuild.  

 

You could still feel Gabriel, lingering on the fringe of your senses in a way you just couldn’t explain.  It was almost like it existed just on the edge of this plane, not quite real but not wholly imagined either and it was driving you insane.

 

Of course big ol’ Pecs McGoo in front of you wasn’t helping.  

 

It was strange, having one person fanning the flames of arousal while another was responsible for the embers being lit.  You were vaguely aware that your life was resembling the beginnings to a plotline of which the writers of Dr. Sexy would be proud.  

 

“Yeah, just tired,” you mumbled, smoothing a hand over your hair as you tried to concentrate on your reading.  However, it didn’t take your mind long to wander again.

 

_You couldn't think of anything other than the need to feel him, on you, against you, inside of you.  Fingers dug into the front of his shirt, drawing him back as you guided both of you to the bed.  You dropped down onto it which brought his hips eye-level, his erection already straining through his pants.  Your reached for the front of them, hands fumbling at the button._

 

_“Easy, sweetheart.  We’ll have plenty of time for that later,” he chuckled, fingers snatching yours up into his.  “We.  Are going.  To take.  Our.  Time.”  Each pause was punctuated by him placing a kiss across your skin.  He started with the back of your hand, moving next to graze over the sensitive spot on the inside of your wrist before slowly making his way up your arm._

 

_Instead of the contact increasing your arousal, it had the opposite effect.  Your need dampened just enough for you to be able to live without feeling skin against skin at that exact moment and hopefully enough for you to be able to remember how to work your hands._

 

_He placed a knee on the bed beside you and you eagerly dragged yourself back, allowing him room to join you.  His legs straddled yours, hands coming to rest on either side of you.  Energy thrummed along the small gap he left between your bodies, a slow smirk stretching wide as he drank in the sight of you beneath him._

 

_“You ever seen the stars, sweetheart?  Because I’m about to bring you to them,” his voice was low, so full of promise and that overflowing confidence.  Had anyone else dropped that line you’d have been rolling your eyes.  As much as Gabriel liked to boast, however, he had yet to break his word on anything and that was what had heat pooling between your legs._

 

“Hey, space case,” Dean’s insistent voice cut through the memory, wrenching you back to the present.  “Get your ass back to earth.  We gotta figure this out and get back to Cas before midnight.”

 

Right.  A friend of theirs had called, requesting help on a case he wasn’t actually working but who also didn’t want them to come work it properly.  In other words, it was a giant waste of everyone’s time.  

 

Other than their friend - Garret? - turning into a pumpkin or some shit on the stroke of midnight.  

 

They’d been in the middle of filling you in when Sam had used the hem of his shirt to wipe something from his face.  The ensuing flash of abs had you utterly distracted and missing some of the finer points of the conversation.

 

“You know it would be easier if we had some eyes on the ground,” you reminded them.  Your eyes preferably.  Being cooped up with the brother’s grim for the last few days was wearing on you.

 

“Cas has it covered,” Dean reminded.

 

“Cas is babysitting,” you corrected, knowing the only thing your friend was doing was keeping an eye on theirs.  Someone should have been out there tracking down the witch and looking for other leads.  

 

“Not an option,” Dean’s voice left no room for debating and you sighed.  You knew there was more they weren't telling you, but you didn't want to pick that argument right now.  Not with him anyway.  He was still a little too salty about his trouser snake turning out to be just that.   You, on the other hand, were still highly amused, thanks to the reaction photos you’d woken up to on your phone from Gabriel.  

 

 _For posterity_ had been the comment.   _Or future blackmail.  Whichever you prefer._

 

If that amazing night hadn't already put the archangel at the top of your favorite’s list, that alone would have.

 

You looked pointedly across the table watching Sam shift uncomfortably beneath your stare.  He didn't like when you fixed this particular one on him.  He had yet to say why, always mumbling some excuse or another or mentioning that even Cas had learned to blink.  You simply attributed it to having grown up with two older brothers you, for some reason, had been in charge of keeping in line.  They had helped you perfect the stare that said you weren’t convinced, you weren’t budging, and your bullshit detector had a fresh set of batteries.

 

“He’s not a hunter anymore.  He’s married.  Has a kid on the way.  I think he just bought a house,” he finally said and you smirked.  That had to be a new record.  Then again, you had been eyeballing him an awful lot lately.  He was probably so over it that it was easier just to tell you what you wanted.    

 

“Was that so hard?”  You asked before going back to your reading.  So the man was living the normal life.  No wonder he didn't want Team Trouble anywhere near him.  Nothing to be all secretive about.  

 

“He, uh, also happens to be a werewolf,” he continued, a little quieter.  

 

Your eyes snapped up, brows inching higher.  He was a _what_?

 

“Dude!” Dean exclaimed.  “We said we weren’t going to tell her!”

 

“ _You_ said we weren’t going to,” Sam reminded before gesturing between the three of you in a wide circle.  “ _We_ agreed secrets don’t work.”  

 

God you loved it when he got sassy.  There was this extra gleam he got in his eyes, the one that suggested that good-natured Sam was not always so good.  

 

The fact he was getting fired up defending you?  Complete bonus.

 

Tension settled across the silence as you looked between the pair.  Sam stared defiantly at his brother who in turn gave him a look like how _dare_ he take your side.  You on the other hand were wondering how different that fire in Sam’s gaze would be if it were lit by something other than frustration.  Because if there was one thing the man had going for him, it was that he could smolder.

 

“What breed is he?  Domestic short hair?”  You quipped, trying to ease some of the strain.  Sam let out a breathy laugh, which was one of the better sounds he made.  It skirted the fringe of sensual, giving the slightest hint at what sounds he could make behind closed doors.

 

Dean’s gaze, however, was not as pleasing.  In fact, if you weren't mistaken it was beginning to wear a hole in the side of your head again.

 

“We’re good, Dean,” you assured him.  You were a little uneasy, but if Grant was good in their book he was good in yours.  

 

Until you thought about all the werewolf cases you had ever worked and their victims.  

 

Shit.  Now your conscience was involved.  This was exactly why you tried not to think too closely about… well everything, because what if?  What if the witch had a good reason to hex the werewolf?  What if the spell made him more dangerous?  What if the Winchesters were simply wrong?

 

Maybe you could do a little of your own digging.  Just to be on the safe side.  

 

You took out your phone, careful to keep your movements unnoticeable.  Your fingers pulled up a text conversation on autopilot, thumb tapping dully on the screen.  You were just about to hit the send button when you realized who your go to was.    

 

_Buttons scattered in a flurry of dull taps as your ripped open the front of his shirt.  Your fingers worked perfectly fine.  Your patience, however, was another story.  Gabriel paused, an eyebrow arching as he looked down for a moment then back up to you.  Gold danced with amusement and his lips curled up on one side._

 

_“Always wanted to do that,” you told him, teeth biting on your lower lip as shyness made an appearance and it elicited a whole other kind of look from him._

 

_“Know what I’ve always wanted to do?” He asked, his smirk shifting as he brought his fingers up and gave a snap.  A chill ghosted over your now exposed skin, your shirt and pants having vanished into thin air leaving you only in your underwear.  You’d gone all out, selecting a matching bra and underwear set made of black lace.  Simple, but effective where the fabric wasn’t quite see through but also wasn’t wholly solid._

 

_If you thought his initial stare had been predatory, what you saw gathering in the darks of his eyes was positively feral._

 

_“Now who’s in a rush?” You teased, doing your best to give a confident smile.  The lights were far brighter than you cared for, leaving you feeling exposed to his scrutiny.  As if sensing your discomfort, he snapped his fingers again, the brightness blinking out for a moment before being replaced by the soft glow of candles that sprung up around the room._

 

_You grabbed the front of him, drawing him back to your lips before he had a chance to look too closely at the many scars that marred your skin.  He didn’t linger there long, mouth moving down past your jaw and along your neck, intent on exploring the newly exposed territory.  Tips of fingers dragged lightly across your stomach, causing it to tense in response._

 

_“You are so beautiful,” he murmured, lips grazing down between the swell of your breasts.  You had to admit, those weren’t bad.  It was one of the few places that didn’t seem to get filleted, stabbed, clawed, or any number of other unpleasantries that came from hunting monsters.  The rest of you, however, was debatable, especially your back, but he got an A for effort in keeping the mood going._

 

_Hazel flashed up momentarily and you weren’t sure if he’d caught any of those thoughts or just something about them resonated on your face.  He paused, drawing back and putting enough distance between you to look at you properly._

 

_“We still ok?”  He asked, eyes searching yours.  “If you’re not certain, we can stop.  No hard feelings.”_

 

_Certain about yourself?  No.  The ride?  You’d have to be dead to want off it with the amount of pent of frustration and energy zinging through your system._

 

_“You sure about that?”  You arched a brow, reaching forward and palming something that was certainly hard enough through the front of his pants.  His breath hitched, eyes fluttering shut for a moment and you felt your confidence beginning to return._

 

_“Making it awfully hard to be a gentleman,” he said, voice dropping to a sensual husk._

 

_Good thing you never said you wanted one._

 

After a half-dozen attempts to rewrite your message, you finally settled on one and hit send before you could change your mind.

 

                                         _We still ok?_

 

You tried to go back to your reading while you waited, but anxiety began to seep into your chest.  What if you weren’t?  He was one of the few friends you had and your most powerful resource.  How many times had he been instrumental in solving a case?  How many times had he saved one of you or healed you when Cas wasn’t around?

 

Your heart picked up a few extra beats.  What if you had ruined all of that?

 

Your phone buzzed and your eyes immediately dropped to the screen.  

 

_You bet, baby cakes._

 

Relief tugged at your lips and you released a breath you weren’t aware you’d been holding.  Things were ok.  At least enough to carry on as normal until you actually had to face each other again.  

 

                          _Can I ask a favor?_

 

This time his response was immediate.  

 

_Business or pleasure?_

 

You could just imagine the way his brows would be dancing with implication if he were actually there.

 

_It’s for a case._

 

You sent the specifics to him, eyes glancing briefly up to find the others engrossed in their own research.  

_The latter tends to be_

_more fun if you recall_

 

Oh you recalled all right.  That was the problem.  You recalled a little too vividly.  

 

_Sweet Jesus he was such a tease.  It was like he needed to trace over every inch of you that could be seen.  Tips of fingers drank in every ridge, every curve, teasing over black fabric with a whisper of a touch before moving on to skin.  Lips and tongue blazed their own path, crisscrossing their way over your body.  When combined with his power dancing across your senses it was simply maddening and simply divine._

 

_Any attempts to do any exploration of your own, however, were met with redirection and resistance, spurring gentle nudges or the snag of a hand that became more and more insistent the longer you tried.  The bastard wouldn't even let you level the playing field, having yet to shed a single piece of clothing.  All you were allowed was the hint of skin peeking through his now open shirt and even that was only due to your own impulsivity._

 

_If he wasn’t going to let you touch him then he needed to touch you properly, otherwise your star was going to burst.  Soon._

 

_He chuckled eyes peering up from between your legs.  He was in the process of nibbling his way along your inner thigh, tongue lavishing every spot that teeth had tugged against skin._

 

_“Kind of the point, sweetness,” he said, giving the wickedest smile you had ever seen._

 

“What are you looking at?” Sam asked, eyes peering at you from over his book before dropping down in the direction your gaze had been.  God damn it, you were smiling again weren’t you.  You chanced a glance up and the look on his face said it was worse than you thought.  He wasn’t just observative, curiosity flashing through those ever changing eyes of his (today they were a lovely blue-green with the slightest smattering of brown in the center).  

 

What could possibly be worse than smiling?

 

Shit.  You better not be in cheshire territory.  You had no idea how you’d even begin to explain that.  

 

“Porn,” sarcasm peppered the word, lips giving a mocking crease.  “What do you think?”

 

Sam looked at you a moment before dropping his gaze to the table between you.  He always seemed on the fence on whether or not to call you on your deflections, but rarely did he ever.  His shoulders dipped slightly, posture drawing inward, another sign he was about to back down.  

 

His habit of deferring, you decided, was one of his less attractive qualities just as Gabriel’s insistence to _always_ push was one of his.  Thinking about either was like tossing a bucket of water on a fire pit: enough to douse the flames, but not quite enough to extinguish all the embers.  

 

“Yeah, right,” Sam snorted, returning his attention to his book.  “Like you even watch porn.”

 

Your mind stuttered as your eyes snapped back up.  Someone was unusually sassy today.  His gaze darted briefly up at the same time, meeting yours, and you had the sudden, overwhelming urge to look back down.  A telltale warmth crept across your cheeks but thankfully this blush ranked on the low end of what you had dubbed the five alarm Sam Winchester scale.  

 

No wonder he thought you didn’t watch it.  You could barely handle adult themes with him.   

 

It took a moment, but your demureness began to fade.  You arched a brow in his direction careful to keep your features from giving him any hint of how to take your remark.

 

“And just how would you know what I look at behind close doors?”

 

_You’d never watched like this before.  You’d never really been with anyone worth watching.  Gabriel, however, was an intoxicating sight, and seeing him do things to you was just as pleasure inducing as him actually doing them._

 

_His fingers curled, nails dragging down the length of your stomach before coming to rest at the band of your underwear.  Tips dipped just beneath the elastic, slowly drifting over skin until it reached the jut of your hip.  His other hand came up on the other side, tugging the fabric down…_

 

_Sweet Jesus this was finally happening._

 

_… and stopping just as suddenly._

 

_Frustration wove a little tighter with yearning, edging you closer not only to your climax, but in seriously considering how much trouble you’d be in with God if you killed him.  You bit back on the noise you wanted to release.  You weren’t certain how much more of this you wanted to encourage._

 

_You also wanted his ego to fit through the door when he left._

 

_His head descended, exploring the extra inch he’d just uncovered.  His touch tingled against your body in a way you’d never experienced.  It wasn’t like before where he was consciously unleashing energy.  It wasn’t even his own desire spilling across his vessel’s barrier onto you._

 

_Maybe Gabriel knew what he was doing after all._

 

 _Fabric inched lower again and you nearly squirmed with anticipation.  Now you were getting somewhere.  You didn’t think it was possible for him to go any slower, but as usual he found a way to defy expectations.  Teeth and mouth danced at a tortuous pace and that impatience laced desire would have had you shifting beneath him_ _had his hands and arms not been firmly pinning you down._

 

_His lips finally reached the top of your mound where his tongue flicked out, teasing along the very top of folds.  The resulting sensation no longer allowed you to hold back, a low moan culminating in his name tumbling past your lips and you felt him smile against you._

 

_“There’s the magic word,” he said, fingers hooking beneath the fabric before drawing them down completely._

 

_Son of a bitch._

 

_Pride didn’t begin to cover the problems he had._

 

_“Just one more thing to get out of the way,” he announced, slyness slipping through words and stretching the corners of his mouth.  Your breath hitched as you watched him slowly crawl up the length of you, amber gleaming wicked with intent in a way that made it seem lit from behind.  The glow was a sharp contradiction to his wings that fluttered in response to your voice and for a moment your eyes were drawn back up toward the mighty shadows._

 

_Your admiration was cut short as his hands finally found your breasts.  It was the first real touch they’d received all evening and your eyes closed to savor the contact.  Your nipples peaked with anticipation, his fingers curling over the top of the fabric.  The contrast of coolness and warmth had you arching as Gabriel allowed the air to hit them before his breath took its place._

 

 _You groaned.  You needed him to touch them.  You needed to feel his mouth on them, his fingers,_ anything _was better than nothing at this point.  He almost gave you what you wanted._

 

_Almost._

 

The flutter of wings pulled you back to the present.  Your body went rigid, anticipation colliding with alarm in a way that had everything within you growing still.  The presence that followed was familiar, but not nearly palpable enough to be Gabriel’s.  

 

“Oh my god,” Sam breathed, eyes drifting up behind you.  “Cas?”

 

You weren't sure whether you were more disappointed or relieved that it was only your second favorite angel that had arrived.  You turned, eyes going wide as you took in your friend’s features.  

 

Concerned.  You were definitely more concerned than anything because holy _shit_ that was a lot of blood.  On his face, down his shirt, spattered across the front of his jacket.  All of which appeared to have come out of his nose.

 

If you had to guess, he looked like he’d been hit square in the face with a battering ram, at least judging by all the bruising that had been left behind.    

 

“Jesus, are you ok?” You asked.  

 

“Have you seen Gabriel?”  Blue eyes began to blaze as they fell in your direction, suggesting you were, indeed, the recipient of that demand; as if anyone else was these days. “And don’t call me Jesus.”  

 

You held back a snort.  You’d been trying to teach the angel the finer points of blasphemy but he clearly was still working on them.  With your mind currently occupied restraining another part of you, your sass saw an opportunity to slip right past your awareness and straight out your mouth.

 

“What am I, his personal secretary?”  It demanded.

 

Cas blinked, eyes scrunching the slightest bit as they looked up and to the right.  As usual, your sarcasm shot straight over his hairline, leaving him to try and sort out the relevance of your answer based on the literal message alone.  

 

You really tried your best to reign it in around him.  Mostly because what was the point of bantering if you had to stop and explain yourself every other sentence?  There were times, like now, you couldn’t help it.  It was too ingrained in your nature, even if you knew it was like bringing a rocket launcher to a potato gun fight: utterly unfair and leading to outcomes which often blew up in your face.

 

Case and point: Dean was giving you the look, the one that said you were far too quick to toss a quip and he was on the trail.  It also didn’t help your arms had naturally folded over your chest, but what did they expect when everything the archangel did was somehow your fault?

 

Nevermind that it actually was this time.

 

“Why would we?” Sam asked, cutting through the budding tension.  His peacekeeper senses must have been all a tingle.  Probably because he’d recently become a live in one for you and his brother.    

 

“I assumed you were the one who sent him,” Cas said, eyes never leaving you.  

 

Seriously, though?  Not his damn secretary.  And would it have killed the angel to remember to blink?  

 

“What?  Why would we - you know what?  Forget him for a minute,” Dean broke in, waving a hand through the air as if giving them a restart.  “What happened to your face?”

 

Cas turned, expressionless features managing the ghost of what you called the _Gabriel Special_ .  It was one part bitchface, two parts disgruntled and _seriously_ over it, tied together with a dash of constipation.  

 

Dean had been the creator of that.  The fact that Cas had learned its basics suggested the archangel had far too much free time on his hands these days.  Every head in the room turned toward you whereas you simply glanced at the time.  

 

It hadn’t even been ten minutes.  

 

 _God damn it Gabriel_.  

 

“One of these days, my father is actually going to answer that prayer just so he can stop hearing it,” the angel in question announced, appearing on the table in front of you.  The room exploded with his presence, a shockwave of electricity skittering over your skin.  Your breath hitched.  The sudden spike in energy, though powerful, you could handle.  The way Sam disappeared behind Gabriel’s hips and thigh?  A little tougher to take in.   

 

The archangel was splayed sideways, elbow propped up, head resting on a closed fist.  One leg stretched out while his other foot rested flat on the table, knee up.  His free hand, draped over his raised leg, gave a little wave and from the looks of things you would’ve sworn he was lounging in bed instead of the middle of your research.

 

You knew it was no accident his beltline had been what ended up in front of your face.  Try as you might, you couldn’t ignore it.  You knew what was under there and there was no going back.  

 

God you were never going to be able to look at him the same way again.  

 

It took you a moment to remember how to breathe and that devilish smirk on his face was definitely not helping.    

 

“Hey, pumpkin.  Miss me?” He asked, brows bouncing up and down a few times.  You dragged your eyes to his face and gold positively glittered with mirth tinged pride that bordered on hubris.  

 

Great.  Even if you could forget, that look suggested he was never going to let you.

 

Heat crept into your cheeks.  You weren't sure if it was because he caught you staring or the fact the reason for all those sinful activities running through your mind had just fallen onto the table in front of you like he was dinner.  

 

“What the hell is your problem?” Dean demanded, moving around the table to stand beside you.  For a moment you thought he was talking to you.  You were a little surprised he wasn't considering how everything had become your fault lately.

 

“Yeah what did you do to Cas?” Sam echoed, coming around and flanking you from the other side.

 

Gabriel’s eyes gave a roll before acknowledging either of them.  “A favor.”   _Duh_ his tone said.  

 

“Real nice favor,” Sam muttered.  Why he felt the need to stand so close to you was beyond you.  Yet, he was there, just behind your shoulder, so close there was a tinge of energy simmering across the air, the kind you weren't sure was real or simply a trick of the mind.  

 

What was worse was how acutely aware you were of how little distance lay between Sam’s hips and the archangel’s and how you were suddenly smack dab in the middle of them.  

 

It was in that moment you realized just how much God liked to have a laugh at your expense.

 

Probably from all the blasphemy you were trying to teach his children.

 

“He became infected by the same thing Fido had and I removed the spell,” Gabe insisted as if even a third grader could have figured it out.  

 

“Garth is not a dog,” Dean hissed, bypassing irritation and heading straight for his _over it_ phase.  You should have jumped straight into damage control to keep things from spinning out of control, but you were too busy wondering just who the hell was Garth?

 

“You’re right.  Dogs tend to smell better than most werewolves do,”  the archangel taunted.  

 

Oh, right.  He was papa wolf with a mortgage.  You really needed to work on your attention span.   

 

“Lifting the spell?  Piece of cake, by the way, and you’re welcome,” sarcasm splashed through Gabe’s words as he winked somewhere over your head in what you assumed was Cas’ direction.  The reminder he had tried rearranging your friend’s features helped refocus your thoughts.

 

“You removed the spell… by punching him in the face?”  You asked, brow and tone raising sharply.

 

“Woah, sweetheart, you got it all wrong.  I didn’t punch him,” he insisted.  Did you look like you were born yesterday?  You leaned back in your chair, your brow simply extending even closer to your hairline.

 

“You certainly didn’t kiss him.”  There came that sass again, although at least this time the recipient was a little more fit to receive it.

 

“ **I can’t believe you thought I punched him,”** he said, hand waving toward you dramatically as his eyes rolled sky high.  “ **No, I slammed a shovel into his face.  Big difference.”**

 

“You _what_?!” Dean roared.  

 

“He hit me with the shovel.  Garth is the one he punched,” Cas oh-so-helpfully clarified.

 

You leaned forward, putting your face in your hand.  This was it.  This was the part where they kicked you out for being such good friends with a hot mess of an archangel.  Provided they didn’t just decide to shiv him.  

 

“Listen, I can explain,” Gabriel insisted, pushing himself into a sitting position, hands raised in a placating gesture.  “It wasn’t my fault.”

 

You looked up at him only to watch him pause, brow slowly rising.  It took you a moment to realize it was because he was watching the same seriously unimpressed and seriously skeptical look spread across all three of your faces.  

 

You couldn't see what Cas was doing but you imagined it involved squinting.

 

“You all spend way too much time together, you know that?” He remarked finger sweeping back and forth across the group.  “But I really wasn’t myself.  Might have had a touch of rage at the time.”

 

“Why?  Someone miss their midday nap?” Dean jeered, his barb in line with his latest favorite thing to compare the archangel to which was a giant toddler.  Giant winged douche, however, still remained in the number one spot.  

 

“Because that spell your friend was hit with?  Nasty little thing called a walking fury.  Anyone want to guess how that gets cured?”  Gabriel’s hand flew forward, finger extending toward the other angel.  You almost didn't want to know what he was doing to your friend.  You turned just as Cas’ mouth opened, only nothing was able to come out.  

 

“Uh, uh, little bro.  No fair stealing the punchline.”  He turned to the rest of you expectantly, only none of you were in the mood to play along.  “Oh come on, no _one_ has any guesses?  Fury?  Mobility?”

 

He threw his hands up in disappointment when you all just continued to stare at him.  

 

“Fine,” he conceded, tone going flat.  “The only cure is to pass it on to someone else before it expires or rather, before it expires you.  Usually through touch, though Cassie boy contracted it through his grace.”  

 

He paused, placing a hand next to his mouth as he talked out the other side, “You should really be more careful where you stick that, by the way.”  

 

Cas tried to say something, eyes flaring when nothing continued to come out.  

 

“What’s that?” Gabriel teased, cupping a hand to his ear.  “You’ll have to speak up.”

 

“Stop being an ass,” you stood up, shooting him a look of disapproval.  It was one thing to mess with the Winchesters.  Though seriously outgunned, they at least had the capability to give back what was dished out.  Cas on the other hand, had a tendency to just take whatever was served, something that never really sat well with you.  Blasphemies aside, you had been trying to teach him useful skills that might help level the playing field.  Though in this case, no amount of understanding nuances and subtleties would make things equal and you had never been a fan of people picking unfair fights.  

 

Sam moved your chair aside, allowing you space to step back.  It put the three of you side by side, as if you were forming a protective line between the two angels, which would have been ridiculous considering there was enough power in either of their pinkies to deconstruct every molecule in your bodies.  It did, however, get your point across.

 

Gabe sighed, holding back another eye roll.  The look he gave clearly said you were a lot more fun the last time you were together.  He brought his hand up, snapping, and Cas let out an odd noise before clearing his throat.  

 

“So if Cas contracted the walking fury spell, where did it go?” Sam asked, concern spreading across his features as that quick mind of his continued to try and piece everything together.  It was good to know one of you was paying attention.

 

“I took it into me,” the archangel answered as if it were the simplest thing in the world, “And I have to say, that was a whole lotta rage that came with it.  Not sure I’ve felt a rush like that in a millennium or two.”  He let out a low whistle for added effect.

 

Is that why you smelled Mexican chocolate cake?  

 

You hadn’t really been around for when Gabriel was angry, but that undercurrent of spice cutting through chocolate since his arrival did remind you of cayenne.

 

“One moment I’m holding that one down,” Gabe continued, pointing over your shoulder.  “The next there’s nothing in the world I hated more than goofy looking things and that friend of yours?  Has a whole lot of that going on in this area,” he said, finger doing a wide circle around his face.   “Which is why I may have possibly tried to wreck it.”

 

You weren’t sure if the tension in the room was really rising that rapidly or if it was because you were standing between the two sources of it.  Gabriel’s fake attempt to look contrite? Definitely not helping.  

 

“He’s fine, by the way,” he added after allowing the silence to settle longer than necessary.  “Cas took care of him.  Your friend is seriously one lucky S. O. B.”

 

While you didn't think luck even began to cover surviving the wrath of an archangel, what really struck you was the wholly serious look he was touting.  You didn’t trust it and if the Winchesters were smart, they wouldn’t either.  

 

“Yeah, thanks for not bashing his face in,” Sam said and you could tell by the inflection in his tone he was looking real thrilled.

 

“Well, he’s lucky for that too,” Gabe agreed.  “I, on the other hand, was talking about his wife.  She is seriously out of his league.”  

 

Ah.  There was the punchline.  You were just glad it was in the form of sarcasm instead of an unexpected addendum where he mentioned things such as accidentally ripping holes into parallel universes across an entire county in Massachusetts.

 

“Wait, if he passed it on to you, why aren’t you trying to kill us?”  Dean demanded, hands moving to his hips.  

 

That was a good question.   

 

Sometimes you wondered just how long the three of you would last if all your divine connections were taken away.

 

“Let’s just say there’s one _really_ angry sheep up on a mountain in Bhutan,” Gabriel assured.

 

You didn’t know where that was, but you hoped it was way _way_ up there if even angels weren't immune to the magic.

 

“What happens to it when the spell expires?” Sam asked.

 

“I’ll spare you the finer details but let's just say it gets a little messy and anything within splattering distance then becomes a host,” he explained.  

 

Jesus.  Garth must have really pissed someone off to earn one of those.  

 

“So we’re good?  Good.” Gabriel said, clapping his hands together before hopping down from the table.  His eyes immediately swung to you and you felt your heart stutter.  Shit.  You were definitely not good.  You weren’t prepared for this yet.  

 

Was it too late to start drinking?

 

“We most certainly are _not_ good,” Dean insisted apparently on the same page, though he was a tad more feisty as he stepped up to the angel and jabbed a finger into Gabe’s chest.  “Valentine’s Day ring a bell?”

 

You’d almost forgotten.  He and Sam may have had it out with you, but this was the first they we're seeing the archangel since then.  You kind of weren’t prepared for this either and it was well past the time to start having these drinks.

 

“No, no bells being rung, now _or_ then,” Gabe drawled, cockiness splashing through words and drawing up the corner of his lips into that insufferable smirk he got when about to start trouble.  

 

At least when Dean put a blade through him you’d have the opportunity to say you’d tapped that.  Well after the dust settled, of course, though that was one cleanup you had no desire to be a part of.  With what Gabriel was packing, you’d be finding bits of his wings for weeks.  

 

You idly wondered if they’d be able to fit in this room.  They’d barely been able to at the motel, but they’d become significantly more cramped once you’d moved to the bed.  

 

_Your eyes drifted up behind him, watching the shadows as they extended, tips curling inward as they butted up against each wall.  It was fascinating, watching how they moved in response to Gabriel’s own actions.  The more controlled his touch, the less composed they seemed, fluttering more insistently against the confines of the space, eventually arching high against the ceiling as if anxious to be able to fully stretch._

 

_“Sweetheart, I’m down here,” he teased, though he was only half joking by the way brows rose slightly._

 

_“Better show up there,” you taunted.  If a blow to his pride didn’t get things moving, then you knew all hope was lost.  He paused a moment, features smoothing over into a perfect portrait of himself, or he would have been if his ego hadn’t begun to bleed around the edges.  His wings suddenly stilled and if it hadn’t been for the rise and fall of his chest you would have sworn time had stopped around you._

 

_“Oh?” He said, hazel sparking in a way that said your challenge had been accepted.  With a snap the last vestige of your clothing vanished.  His, however, stayed right where it was.  You didn’t have time to complain as his head descended, mouth finally latching onto a nipple while his hand sought out the other._

 

_You gasped as fingertips and tongue continued their worship, pleasure coursing through your system and causing that heated pressure inside you inch ever higher.  Your hips rocked against his and this time there was glorious friction, just enough to guide you to the edge.  It was his mouth and hand that took you over, one teasing circles around a hardened nub as the other found just the right amount of pressure with which to tug.  Your body arched against him, pleasure exploding across senses, radiating out from your center until tips of fingers tingled and heat was rising into your cheeks._

 

_He continued his ministrations as you rode out the final pulses, waiting for your body to stop shuddering before he looked up._

 

 _“Someone is_ sen- _sitive,” he said, drawing out his last word before his lips came down just beneath the swell of your breasts, teasing a slow path down your stomach.  “I wonder if that’s the case everywhere?”_

 

A series of snaps in front of your eyes jolted you back to the present.  It took everything you had not to jerk away, the air between Gabriel’s hand and your face so full of electricity that it almost felt like he was waving a live wire at you.

 

“You don’t look so good, cupcake.  Have you been taking care of yourself recently?”  He may have had the decency to leave the insinuation out of his tone, but what would have been there simply flowed over into his gaze.  Subtlety was not a skill he often employed and there was little of it holding back the smug air that suddenly seeped into every aspect of him.  

 

“You’ve been a little out of it today,” Sam remarked, eyes narrowing as he studied you a little more closely.  

 

Either he was spending too much time with Cas or your own expectation Gabriel would heavily toe the line of implication made you extra sensitive to everything the angel said or did.  Regardless, you did _not_ want to be placed under anyone’s scrutiny in regards to what really happened last week.  

 

“Self-care is quite important you know.  Though if you’re having difficulty making time for yourself, it’s important to have a friend who’s willing to help you with it,” a subtle slyness creased lips in a slight curl on one side, “Lucky for you, I’m willing to be that person,” he placed a hand against his chest, feigning selflessness with just the right touch of concern.  “And you, sweetheart, should really get to bed.”   

 

Your pulse quickened, mind fumbling.  You wanted Gabe, that wasn’t the issue.  You just weren’t sure if you wanted to be alone with him again yet.  Sex always seemed pretty high on his agenda, but considering you were fairly certain your friendship went both ways, he probably had made a note above that for the two of you to talk.  

 

Talking about these things?  About as much your forte as subtlety was his.  

 

“Yeah, sure, after I help take care of this,” you said, gesturing toward the books scattered across the table.  “Although what about Garth? I mean, do we even know what happened to the witch that hexed him?”

 

“Why don’t you let us worry about that,” Sam offered and it was all the archangel needed to hear.

 

“Good idea,” Gabriel agreed and with the snap of his fingers the library suddenly melted away to darkness.  Another snap had the lights in your room flaring to life.  A final one had the lock on the door clicking before the deadbolt slid into place.  

 

You forced yourself to take a breath.  This was happening a little faster than you intended.  Though really, what would staying in the library any longer have accomplished other than putting off the inevitable?

 

Then again, there was a stash of whiskey in there.

 

“Starburst?” He said and you looked down to find his hand suddenly full of them.  You eyed the candy for a moment.  Was this some red pill, blue pill Matrix thing where he was offering you an easy way out?

 

Was there ever _really_ an easy way out with Gabriel?

 

You shook your head and he smiled as he popped one in his mouth, pleased with the response.  Or just with himself.  Sometimes it was hard to tell the difference.

 

“You know they’re going to come check on me if they think I took off with you,” you told him because, inevitably, whenever you did do something with the archangel, one of the trio had to make an appearance.  It was a little flattering at first.  Then slightly obnoxious but tolerable.  Now you were simply over it, mostly because someone just couldn’t help starting an argument which you ended up having to diffuse.  

 

That someone? Shockingly usually the man standing in front of you.

 

“Why do you think I have my double out there keeping them occupied?”  He questioned before tossing something in your direction.  You caught it, eyes dropping down to find it was a protein bar.  

 

“Eat something, will you?  Your blood sugar’s so low you’re practically on the verge of souring.”  

 

Well no wonder you’d been full of sass.  You’d forgotten to eat anything since breakfast.  

 

Despite his sarcasm, that look of _almost_ disappointment made an appearance, the way it always did when he caught you not taking care of yourself.  You unwrapped the snack, thankful to have something to concentrate on other than talking at the moment.

 

“Thanks, Gabe,” he said in a falsely bright way and you were also grateful for how he was at least acting like nothing had changed.  

 

“Thanks, Gabe,” you repeated, though your words came out a little muffled around the mouthful of food.  You moved toward the trash behind you, tossing the wrapper in it.  You managed to swallow the first half before shoving the rest of it in.  A few crumbs missed their way in and you paused to swipe at the front of you.  That’s when you realized how silent he’d become.

 

You turned, only to find him looking at you expectantly, a slow smile spreading across his face.  

 

Well that hadn't lasted long.

 

You swallowed the rest of what was in your mouth, though your nervousness made it feel like it never really made its way down your throat.

 

“So…”  You began, smoothing a hand over the top of your head.  You caught the edge of your tie, pulling it from your hair before running a nervous hand through tangled strands.  Once you’d managed what you could with it, you let your hand fall back to your side.   Fingers drummed lightly against the side of your jeans.  When you realized what you were doing, you shoved them into your pocket, the gesture completely out of character for you as your mind flew at a dizzying rate.

 

Why did you suddenly have no idea what to do with your hands?  Could he hear you again?  What if tequila wasn’t the only thing that busted your noodle shield?  More importantly, why wasn’t he saying anything?  He was usually the one who couldn’t shut up.

 

“Woah, somebody’s tense,” Gabriel said, snapping himself behind you.  You would have jumped, but his hands were on your shoulders and you had a feeling the buzz across your skin wasn’t just from contact alone.

 

“Relax, pumpkin.  I’m not going to bite,” he teased.  “Well, not yet, anyway.”   Tips of fingers dug into corded muscle and a sense of ease began to seep down through your system.  As you relaxed, that sensation faded and his touch began sparking across skin in a familiar and oddly comforting way.     

 

“Let an angel storm the gates once and they think they can waltz in whenever they like,” dryness touched words as your head lolled forward.  He took the hint, easing his way up and working those magical fingers over the back of your neck.  What he was doing was more disarming than you expected and a smart move on his part.

 

“Never had anyone turn me down for a second round,” he explained and you felt him step a little closer.  The lingering feel of him beneath your skin clamored to the surface, becoming more charged with his sudden proximity.  It drew you to him in a way you didn’t understand, that otherwordly feeling creeping over you, overlaying senses in a way that almost felt like your world was being filtered through a different lens.  

 

It was then that you realized, there was no way you were getting out of this.  You were pretty certain you didn’t want to, but you also didn't know what it meant for your relationship if he just stumbled right back into your bed.  

 

“Unless I was imagining all those times you told me _oh fuck, Gabe, don’t stop_ ,” he teased.

 

You stepped away from his hands, folding your arms over your chest as you turned around.  First off, you did _not_ sound like that.  Second, God he was such an arrogant shit.  It normally didn’t bother you, but when he became too full of himself, things did not normally turn out well for anyone.  Case and point, that county in Massachusetts.  The one now referred to as _the-place-that-shall-not-be-named_ because of the unspoken agreement  to never, ever, under any circumstances talk about it again in the interest of you and Gabriel being able to maintain any sort of amicable relationship with the Winchesters.   

 

Well, it was mostly just for Gabe’s sake.  You were pretty sure they’d forgiven you by now since, at one point, all three of you had shared a padded room.

 

“Did you know, however…” You braced yourself as ego overtook everything, from overshadowing the twinkle in his eyes to bringing thats smug smile to whole new levels. “When you think really hard about a particular angel, they can sense it?  Kind of like a prayer, but a lot less verbal and with a whole lot more _sensory_ action.”

 

His brows playfully danced up and down as he gave you a look.  The one that said the cat hadn’t just caught the canary, but swallowed it whole.  

 

Oh.   _Oh_ .  Oh _shit_.  He’d sensed all that, noodle shield and all.

 

Well, this was awkward.  

 

“No need to be embarrassed.  I am an unforgettable experience.”  That was Gabe for you.  Not the least bit of shame as that conceited little grin of his stretched wide across his features.  

 

“I’m impressed,” you told him, doing your best to sound just as confident and unaffected though you were pretty sure your cheeks were well on their way to at least a four alarm level.  “With how big your ego’s getting, I would have thought you wouldn’t fully fit in here.”

 

You shifted one foot back, not quite stepping away from him, but leaning back on your heel to create a little natural space between you.  The air between you was steadily filling with an energy that skittered across senses, similar to when he’d pulled out his wings.  You weren’t sure if you were just too distracted back in the library to notice or if it was only happening now that you were alone.

 

“It’s a little snug, I’ll admit, but I’m a fan of tight places,” he said, voice lowering as he leaned forward, not fully erasing the gap you’d just created but also not leaving much of it left.   His hands came down on your waist, tips of fingers light, tentative, a jarring contrast to the the certainty woven into his mask.  It added that little touch of something that never failed to let him in the door when he’d managed to wedge his foot in it.

 

“Shouldn’t we talk?”  You managed to hang onto some semblance of rational thought, though that was slowly fading as he guided you up against the wall.  The cold stone at your back contrasted sharply to the heat you felt unfurling between your bodies.   Knowing Gabriel and his tricks, that was exactly the point.  

 

“Ok,” he agreed, but that wholly unwholesome look he was giving suggested he was not about to play by the rules.  Then again, when did he ever?

 

“What are your thoughts on being restrained?”  

 

You expected trickery.  Sarcasm.  Deflection.  Sass.  That, however, had not even made the list, a list that was now rapidly growing.  

 

You haven't even bought me dinner yet and you want to know if I’ll let you tie me up?”  You tsked, your own need to deflect sometimes as ingrained as his seemed to be.  

 

“Fair enough.  What about…” He looked upward, fingers stroking at his chin as he pretended to be thoughtful.  His other hand stirred against your side, thumb suddenly dipping beneath the band of your jeans.  It teased its way along the edge of fabric, dragging lazily over the jut of your hipbone as it made its way across the sensitive skin beneath your stomach.  

 

“Spanking?”  His eyes dropped to yours just as his hand came down to give you a playful swat.  The bulk of it was against your hip, though tips of fingers did glance off of the intended area.  When you didn’t respond he leaned closer, hand slipping behind to cup you as he pulled your hips against his.  

 

“Have you been a naughty girl, y/n?”  

 

You could’ve been Mother Theresa and you would have told him yes the way he was looking at you.  

 

God he was making it awfully hard for you to be a good friend.  

 

“Very,” you replied, looking up at him through your lashes.  “Last week, I let this friend of mine do all sorts of things to me and I barely did a thing to him.”  

 

You slipped your hands beneath the bottom of his shirt, skimming your fingers along the same stretch of skin he had with you.  You liked the way his stomach danced, tightening, untightening, as you used your nails across the light sprinkling of hair that led further below.   

 

Gold became malleable as the heat in his gaze increased, emboldening your touch.  Your fingers dipped just a little lower, slipping under denim and the cotton beneath to brush against where the gathering of curls should begin.  Should, but didn’t.

 

The smile you gave was laced with anticipation and you weren’t even aware of how predatory your gaze became.  All you knew in that moment was that you wanted him.

 

“You’re welcome to return the favor… if you can,” he told you.  Why did you have a feeling what was sparking in his stare was not because you were about to make his night?  Probably because the look on his face was usually reserved for the Winchesters.    

 

You were going to be _so_ screwed.  Figuratively and, with any luck, literally.  

 

“You remember the safeword?”  He asked.

 

“Starburst,” you answered, unsure if the hammering in your chest was a sudden burst of anticipation or nerves.  

 

“Good girl.”  He snapped his fingers and the room went dark around you.  “Say the word and we stop.  No questions asked.”

 

The world shifted beneath you and you were suddenly tumbling forward.  You caught yourself on your hands and knees, but instead of falling on the floor, what rose up to catch you was soft, padded, familiar.  The slow burning heat between your legs was contrasted by a sudden chill that kissed over every inch of you, causing goosebumps to caress their way down your spine and your now bare nipples to grow taut.  

 

You could feel Gabriel’s presence unfurling along the inside of your legs.  Knowing he was there, feeling the way his energy sang over your inner thighs in a pleasant hum had you shifting restlessly.  

 

That frantic edge to your pulse?  Definitely anticipation.  

 

Candles sprung up one at a time, forming a semicircle around you.  They illuminated your bed, confirming that he was not only lying beneath you, but you were not the only one who had lost their clothing.  

 

An unexpected warmth rose to your cheeks as your eyes drank in the sight of him, watching as he did the same with you.  You didn’t feel the subtle shift in posture under his inspection, didn’t realize the way tension flared in your shoulders, running down your back before you were able to take a breath, causing it to release.

 

“I gotta say, the view from down here is pretty amazing.”  There was a cocky air about him, lips tugging up as if to say he was an expert on these things.  You resisted the urge to roll your eyes.  That gesture didn't exactly scream sex appeal.

 

“So what is it you’d like to do to me, sweetness?” He asked, voice lowering slightly.  The way honeyed hues grew heated, he had a few ideas.  

 

The real question was what didn't you want to do to him?

 

“Take my time.”  The answer was at odds with everything you’d expected, but there it was.  You had an inexplicable urge to do exactly what you said despite the need that had been building all week.

 

He hummed thoughtfully for a moment, hands ghosting up the back of your thighs before tips of fingers pressed lightly with intent.  You took the hint, easing forward until he palmed your hips, drawing you down.  He was already hard, his erection pulsing slightly as you shifted, settling him between dampening folds.

 

“How about this: I give you a head start and during it, you can go as fast or as slow as you like,” he offered.  

 

You were tempted to ask what exactly that head start was for, but knowing Gabriel, that would only be a waste of time.  Not knowing how much you actually had, you dipped down, mouth catching his in agreement to his terms.  His lips were soft, pliant, matching your motions as he let you set the pace.  Your tongue dove in where you found a lingering sweetness, the familiar flavor of your favorite starburst dancing over taste buds.

 

Your hand came up, carding through his hair, disheveling those perfect strands.  His own began to stir against your hips, tips of finger caressing over your waist before fluttering across your back.  Goosebumps raced behind his touch, eager to catch the warmth that left a ghosting chill in its wake.  His hands circled back down, easing over your side before moving to cup your breasts.  Your breath hitched as thumbs brushed over sensitive peaks, causing you to arch into him.  He took them between his fingers, pinching in just the right way to make you roll your hips against him.  

 

Your head drew back with a moan, but not before you caught his bottom lip between your teeth, pulling a decadent sound from him as well.  It awakened something within you, a different hunger for him rising out of the embers of your previous want. It was as unexpected as it was heady and you found yourself yearning not only for him, but also his pleasure.  You wanted more of those delicious noises to fill the silence, to make him shudder and shake as much as he had you.  There was suddenly so much want for him _and_ you that you almost didn’t know what to do with it.

 

 _Almost._  Though he was making it awfully hard to stick to your plan.    

 

His mouth slipped away from yours, easing down beneath your chin.  He paused at your neck, nipping, a mild sting rising to the surface in a wholly pleasant way.  Your pulse soared beneath his tongue that was soothing over the already fading ache.  As lips and teeth continued downward you felt your objective sliding closer and closer to the backburner.   

 

Your fingers tightened in his hair, guiding him right where you needed.  His mouth caressed their way across the top of your breasts, but unlike last time, he didn’t draw things out.  His tongue was there, circling a nipple before taking it into his mouth.  You let out a half-sigh, half-hum, nails raking lightly down the back of his neck.  His lips released, fingers taking their place his mouth blazed a lazy trail toward your other peak.

 

His free hand slipped down over the curve of your ass, encouraging you to move against him. Without thinking, you did, folds sliding along his length until your wetness began to ease some of the friction.  He rolled his hips into you, rubbing himself along your clit and causing your legs to shudder.  

 

Fuck, if he kept this up you were never getting his dick in your mouth.

 

“Thought I was allowed a” --you gasped, arching into him as he drew that other nipple into his mouth-- “head _start_ ,” your last word came out a little strained as teeth made an appearance, tugging gently while your fist clenched, gripping golden strands in a wholly ungentle way.  

 

“My bad,” he murmured.  His mouth and hands immediately vanished as he dropped against the bed.  Your body nearly followed, aching with the sudden loss.  The noise you let out was a partial groan, partial whine (though you’d never admit to the latter) and the curl of his lips was so full of himself you were surprised there was still enough room for you in the bed.

 

“Proceed,” he said, gesturing toward you with his hand as if he were opening a door instead of letting you tease your way to a blowjob.  

 

It only made you want to see him come undone even more.  You doubted he’d give up enough control for that to truly happen, but you were never one to shy away from a challenge.

 

You raised off his lap, nudging your knee between his legs which readily opened for you.  You settled yourself within them, pausing to consider your best course of action, as if you were somehow forming battle plans instead of having sex.

 

You were beginning to think both required the same amount of strategy.

 

You dropped your hand to his knee, nails dragging feather-light as your mouth sought out the center of his chest.  He stilled beneath you, his stomach going tight as your fingers continuing to inch up along his inner thigh.  You loved the way muscles tensed beneath your touch, releasing when you moved on to new territory only for those to grow taut.  Touch teased upwards over the edge of hips before sliding across his stomach.

You had been with men who were more fit and well defined.  Gabriel was a little on the slight side but he wasn’t soft by any means.  On a purely superficial level he wasn’t the type you normally went for.  Here in your bed, however, beneath the soft glow of the candles he was perfect, not a single flaw registering against your mouth, on your tongue, or beneath your hands as you finally had the chance to explore him.

 

You paid attention to where you were whenever his breath stalled, when noises rose up only to become caught in the back of his throat, when hips gave the slightest jerk or thighs were on the verge of trembling they were clenched so tight.  He was holding back, doing his best to stay still beneath you, whether it was to encourage you to try harder or discourage you to move things along, you couldn't be sure.

 

Satisfied you’d had your fill from his waist up, your attention moved lower.  Your body remembered how frustratingly fabulous it felt as he lavished the area beneath your stomach, and you set to work, mimicking his actions.  Fingers gripped his hips as you moved from left to right, right to left, teasing your way inch by inch.  Every now and then his cock would give a twitch and you would spend an extra few moments worshipping that spot before moving on.  By the time you got anywhere close to your intended destination, he was flushed and positively throbbing.  

 

If he hadn’t insisted on making you wait so long last time, you might have ended it there.  As it was, he had a whole lot of teasing to answer for.  

 

You decided to change course, dragging your nose down his inner thigh, skirting ever closer to the edge of his shaft.  You could smell your scent on him, mixing with his in a way that had a visceral heat pooling inside you.  It took everything you had to not take him in right then and there, letting him fuck your mouth until the only coherent noise he could make was your name tumbling off the tip of his tongue.  

 

How the hell did Gabriel play this game?  You were so wet and aching for him.  Everything you did was almost as much torment for you as it was him.  

 

You could feel him watching you.  You could tell his gaze was drinking in every movement you made and you couldn’t help but glance up at him.  Heated hazel glowed with their own luminescence sparked more by his desire than the candlelight.  He looked at you like you were the tastiest treat he had ever seen and that, combined with the spectacular view of his body, had everything growing still.

 

“You’re so fucking hot, Gabe,” you breathed.  Your comment had his pride soaring, though when it caught his lips, it tugged in a way that was full of something unfamiliar, something that had dimples flashing for the briefest moment and your heart stuttering against your chest.  

 

How the hell had you ended up with someone like him in your bed?

 

“Right back at you, sweetness,” he said with a wink.  

 

Right.  Like you could even compare.  You appreciated the gesture nonetheless, tucking your insecurities away as you began to acquaint yourself with a spot that had seemed particularly reactive beneath your nails.  This time, you used your mouth, loving the way everything around it grew even tauter.  It wasn’t until you used your teeth that his hips gave a jerk, a strangled noise catching in the back of his throat.  

 

That was when you felt it.  The faintest brush of energy smoothed over your foot before snaking its way around your ankle.  

 

 _If you can_.

 

His grace took on the slightest vibration and for a moment your concentration slipped, your body remembering just as vividly as your mind what _that_ particular part of him was capable of.

 

It inched higher, skimming along your calves, dipping behind your knees, winding a tortuous trail around your thighs until it was ghosting over the junction of where your legs and hips came together.  It stalled there, looping over the same stretch of skin as if in a holding pattern.

 

“Ready, sugar?” He asked.  

 

Knowing the game you were about to play only made you wetter with anticipation.  You placed both hands on his hips as you concentrated.

 

You were _so_ ready.  

 

“Need you to say it, sweetheart.  Can’t--” His breath hitched as you began to drag your tongue back up along the crease where his inner thigh met hips.  “Concentrate enough to” --you suddenly changed course, licking along the base of his shaft before slowly teasing upwards, flicking that sweet spot just beneath his head-- “ _Fuck_.”

 

 _That_ was what you’d been waiting for.  

 

“I certainly hope that’s not the case,” wryness colored words, a little smugness of your own splashing along the contour of your lips.  

 

It wasn’t every day you drove a divine being to distraction with just your tongue.  

 

His fingers thrust into your hair, not quite pulling but not wholly _not_.  His grip walked that fine line of pleasure and discomfort in a way that had your body tingling.

 

“Is that a yes?” He asked, an added edge cutting through the husk in his voice.  My how the tables had turned.  

 

You had no idea just how much they were about to, otherwise you would have taken a little longer to savor this moment.

 

“Yes.”  

 

The word had barely left your mouth when his grace moved again.  It sang upward over your mound, dipping close --oh _so_ close-- to your folds without actually touching them.  Another wisp began to ease along your spine, forking across shoulder blades before circling your breasts.  Your eyes slipped shut, savoring the sensations, and for a moment you almost forgot what you were doing.

 

Almost.  

 

You shifted your weight back a little, tips of fingers curling down around the bottom of his sac to that sensitive spot just beyond it.  A strangled moan caught in the back of his throat as you teased your way across it, continuing that light caress over the swell of his balls and up the base of him.  Halfway up you took him into your hand, thumb swirling over his head, loving the way his whole lower body tightened in an attempt to keep still.  

 

Precum began to drip from his tip and you wiped it with the pad of your thumb, using it as lubrication for that sensitive spot just beneath that upper ridge.  You brushed it once.  Twice.  A third had his hips jerking and his grace briefly stuttered before resuming with renewed intensity.  

 

It finally found your folds, teasing up one side, slipping down the other before it began to stroke against your entrance.  Once again you felt it split, one side easing into you, filling you with a teasingly small amount as the other inched upward where it circled your clit.  

 

You gasped, quickly taking Gabriel into your mouth, knowing what was about to come.  

 

Thankfully it wasn't you, yet.

 

Just as your lips descended over him his grace flared, intensity increasing as he made sure it hit all your sweet spots.  The ensuing moan has you humming around his cock, and the rush of unexpected heat and vibration pulled a loud groan from his lips as well.  

 

From there, you both became trapped in a battle of wills.  He wasn’t pulling any punches, tapping straight into the angel archives where he had apparently stashed a map of every remotely sensitive place on your body.  You were at quite the disadvantage, having to pull out every trick in your book on the chance it _might_ be something he liked.  Ironically, the one real advantage you possessed was of his own doing.

 

He was trying so hard not to let you hear what you were doing to him while you were letting him know _everything_.  Every single vibration he used to torment you went straight back to him through your lips.  It didn't matter what he did, whether he eased up, drew away, or pushed you closer to your climax, anytime you had the slightest inclination you should be responding, you did so without reservation.  

 

Slowly, but surely, his resolve was splintering.  

 

You could feel it in the way his grip tightened in your hair, sometimes trying to wrest control over your pace, sometimes spurring you on.  The way his thighs were tightening, untightening, his hips almost shaking by how hard he kept them pressed against the mattress in an attempt to stay still.  Every piece of him that shattered only heightened your arousal, dragging a piece of you with it and bringing you ever closer to the brink.

 

You could do this, you told yourself.  You were a y/l/n.  You could beat him at his own game.

 

His grace surged in a way that seemed more desperate than controlled and your moan echoed the same sentiments.  You were so _so_ close and if you couldn’t beat him you at least needed him to come with you.  Suddenly that hand in your hair tightened to the point it _did_ hurt and that was what ended up pushing you over the edge.  

 

For once, there was no snap to warn you something was about to happen or maybe there was and you missed it.  Maybe you were just too overwhelmed by the fall that had pleasure rushing in around you and the world blinking away for a moment.  When it returned you were vaguely aware that his lips were swallowing your cry and you found yourself all but slumped on top of him, his erection pressing against your stomach.  

 

“Cheater,” you breathed as you quickly put together what just happened.

 

“Never said I’d play fair,” his voice was a pleasant rumble in his chest.  As your breath began to settle his seemed to remain a little unsteady, the source of his ongoing arousal twitching as your hips gave a teasing shift.  

 

He pulled your mouth back to his just as you were moving for them and this time he didn't hold back.  A pleasant hum tingled over your lips as your hips continued to rock against him, shuddering as every now and then he brushed against your still swollen clit, keeping you within the threshold of overstimulation.  

 

You sat up, coaxing him along with you, enjoying the way he took your bottom lip between his and sucked.  You could feel his eagerness spilling into actions, tongue probing insistently, fingers digging into your side, urging you to increase both pace and friction.

 

Lucky for him, you were human.  You had limitations that prevented you from drawing this out any longer, though he certainly deserved it.  You stilled your movements, reaching between you to wrap your hand around his length.  Another hum vibrated against you, this one deeper than the last.  

 

You raised up, rubbing him along your slit in preparation.  You lined him up with your entrance, feeling your swollen muscles giving a glorious stretch to accommodate his head as you eased it inside.

 

Your mind wandered back to the last time you saw him.  You’d teased him about his need to compensate with that remark about big things coming in small packages.    

 

Never again would that be happening.  

 

“Told you,” he murmured, pride trickling out into a smile that he pressed against skin.  It took you a moment to take him in, more so because the sensation of him filling you felt so damn good. You almost didn’t want it to end despite how your legs were shaking, your heightened sensitivity and general exhaustion making it hard for you to keep them still.

 

“We ok?”  He asked, tips of fingers drawing lazy, loose circles along your lower back.

 

“Yeah.”  You were so wonderfully full right now you were more than ok.  “Legs just might not work yet.”  

 

“Not a problem,” he snapped and just like that you changed places with him.  Your body sank against the mattress and for a moment all you could think of was how many times it would have been nice to have that trick up your sleeve.  His brow crept up slightly and you realized he’d caught that thought.

 

You were going to have to be very careful where you let your mind wander during these idler moments.  God forbid you have a slip and Sam--

 

His head dipped down, catching a nipple in his mouth, short-circuiting your thoughts.

 

Very, _very_ careful.

 

You arched toward him, your other breast aching to be touched.  The direct line to your brain also had its perks, his hand immediately appearing and kneading the neglected party.  His thumb began to tease a slow circle around your peak and you pushed your hips against him.

 

“Gabe, _move_ ,” it was a half-growl, half-demand.  

 

He drew himself back until he was almost all the out before easing back in.  His eyes never left your face as he repeated the motion once, twice more, allowing you to fully adjust to him.  He was being so careful as if suddenly under the impression you were fragile.

 

You were having none of that.  

 

“I swear to your father,” you warned, “if you don’t fuck me right now--”  

 

It was all he needed to hear.  This time when he moved his hips snapped back against yours and a strangled noise lodged in your throat, not expecting the sudden jolt of pleasure that followed.  He continued the movement a few more times before his hands dipped beneath your hips, raising you a little higher.  The slight change in position had him dragging across sensitive, swollen walls in a wholly satisfying way.  

 

The pace he set was more hard than fast and it was just what you needed.  You could feel the pressure beginning to build again in a slow, tantalizing way.  He paused again, pushing your knees back toward your chest.  The next time he entered he hit that wonderful spot inside you and it was like electricity shooting through your system, sparking liquid heat in its wake that began pooling in your center.  

 

“Fuck, Gabe,” you groaned.  Jesus that was _so_ good.  

 

“You like that?” He breathed, eyes watching you intently.

 

You liked everything the man did so far.  Even if he didn't play fair.

 

His finger dropped, seeking your clit before swirling around it in circles.  His grace reappeared, teasing over nipples and giving a series of gentle tugs.  Your eyes slipped shut, savoring all the sensations thrumming through your body.

 

“Tell me how much you like it,” he urged and his voice was so rough with want it bordered on a command.

 

“So fucking much.” You barely managed to get the words out as he slowly adjusts his pressure, trying to find what you need.  “Just like that,” you told him and how he was able to keep it consistent as his hips moved faster was beyond you.  It was telling, however, about just how much control the archangel was capable of.

 

You opened your eyes, surprised to find the darks of his had all but swallowed that beautiful hazel coloring in a way that was positively carnal.  

 

“Feel so good, Gabe,” you continued, remembering how much he liked to hear you say his name and liking the way your comments seem to be hitting all the right buttons for him. “You’re such a perfect fit.”

 

He truly was.  He pushed the boundaries of comfortable without actually bringing discomfort in a way that somehow makes you feel so much fuller and satisfied than you had with anyone else.

 

You plan to keep that part to yourself, however, in the interest of something else continuing to fit in places.  

 

“So fucking perfect.  I can’t even think when you’re in me.”  You couldn't, not really, and you were only half-aware of what was even coming out of your mouth at this point, as highlighted by the fact you were about to bring his father into this, again.  “God, don’t - don’t stop.  Just - _oh fuck_.”

 

You made an effort to clench around him, wanting this to be just as good for him as it was for you.

 

“Fuck, _you_ feel so good,” he groaned his pace stuttering for a moment.  “So tight, sweetheart.  Just what I need.”

 

He leaned down, teeth nipping at your neck hard enough to leave marks.  You were beyond caring, though.  You could feel that heat building, coiling tighter within you.  It wouldn't take much longer for him to get you there.

 

“Come for me, sugar,” he breathed.  The finger against your clit disappeared only to be replaced by that blissful energy of his and the sudden surge in vibration has you igniting.  Flames erupted from your center, sending wildfire burning through you in heated waves.  The world grew distant again, but didn’t fully disappear.  There was still so much of Gabriel keeping you tethered you doubted you could ever fully get lost in the rush.  

 

As you came back down, you could feel his pace growing more erratic and it wasn’t long before you felt him pulsing.  He gave a few final thrusts, a muffled cry sounding as he bit onto your shoulder, coating your walls with his seed as it spilled inside of you.  

 

He dropped down on his elbows, chest rising and falling rapidly against yours as you both took a moment to catch your breath.  Slowly, he pulled out and it makes you feel emptier than you remember having felt before.  He rolled onto his back, mindful of giving you adequate space.  You brought your arms up over your chest, legs drawing together as the sudden loss of warmth overtook you.  

 

He snapped and the quilt you were laying on appeared over you.

 

“Thanks,” you murmured exhausted but satiated in all the best ways.  The way your stomach growled, however, reminded you that there was still one need feeling neglected.  You were glad Gabriel even thought of feeding you before hand.  

 

Not that there was probably much left of that bar in your system after what you’d just done.  

 

“Next time?  We have dinner first,” you told him, not really thinking about the implication behind your words.   

 

“Next time, hmmm,” he said, rolling onto his side and propping his head up with his hand. “If that’s what you want, babycakes.”  

 

Right.  You hadn’t even discussed if there was going to be a next time.  You would have preferred to do it when your mind wasn’t a melted mess, but you’d also rather not spend however long he disappeared for being left in limbo again.  

 

“Should we talk?” You asked, glancing sideways at him.  Your hesitation was unexpected as was the rush of nerves that were steadily undoing your relaxation.  If anything, you had envisioned him being the dodgy one under these circumstances.  

 

“If that’s what you want,” he repeated, nothing in his tone or features giving you the slightest hint of what to do.  

 

You had enough uncertainty in your life as it was.  While you didn’t necessarily need all your lines neatly drawn in the sand you needed _some_ sort of idea when it came to this one.  

 

“Ok,” you said, trying to gather your thoughts.  Your tongue darted out nervously across your lip.  You had an idea what you wanted.  You just didn’t know how to say it.  

 

“There’s no need to overthink this,” he reminded, hand flopping onto the space between you.  His fingers drummed lightly, creating muffled taps against fabric.  His eyes followed the movement, and everything about him was so relaxed and casual you almost wondered if he was bored.

 

He was right, though.  This _was_ Gabriel.  If he was an ass, you called him an ass.  If he was an amazing distraction, why wouldn’t you call him that too?  This was why you were such good friends.  You didn’t have to sugarcoat things and while he was capable of feeling, his emotions were amazingly well defended to the point you weren’t sure there was much you could do to ever bother them.   

 

“I like having sex with you,” you told him, finally finding the courage to meet his gaze.  

 

“I am pretty damn good at it.”  His nonchalantness melted away, but that conceited air didn’t make its expected appearance.  If anything, he acted like he was offering a simple truth and he certainly wasn’t wrong.    

 

You should probably have just let it be, but this was the second time he’d made your world come undone in the best of ways and hadn’t taken much in return.  The least you could do was stroke his ego a little.  

 

You rolled onto your side, hand splaying across his chest.  His brows rose slightly, but he simply watched as you took a moment to focus intently on your next thought.  

 

He was fan-fucking-tastic and he knew it.  

 

Pride swelled at your praise, the smile he gave not only making dimples appear but creasing the corner of his eyes.  The latter didn’t happen very often.  You didn't know why it made you bite your lip, but that inexplicable shyness that flared around him returned.

 

“So let’s keep doing it,” he said, eyebrows giving their playful bounce.  

 

Could it really be that simple?

 

“It’s only as complicated as we make it, sugar,” he informed you.  You drew your hand back, dropping it on the bed between you.  Part of you knew it wasn’t that easy, but that part of your brain was also the one that told you to eat more salads and lay off the sweets.  It never wanted to see you have fun and was as easy to sass into complacence as your father had been when you were a teenager.  

 

That man had not been prepared for raising a daughter on his own, let alone one that knew her way around firearms.     

 

“So how do we do this?” You asked, fingers idly running over the lines of stitching a few inches from his hand.  You weren’t sure what was so damn hard about looking at him, but suddenly you couldn’t take your eyes off the colorful pattern of squares between you.  

 

“How about this: the next time you need a release?  Think real hard about this one,” he suggested.

 

That was easy enough.  It might even be a little fun now that you knew what it did.

 

“What about you?”  You asked, chancing a glance at him.

 

He arched a brow.  “What about me?”  

 

What little of your confidence remained faltered.  You assumed it went both ways, but maybe it didn’t, not fully.  You knew Gabe well enough to know that novelty was a big draw for him and so as long as whatever this was stayed new and exciting, he’d stay interested.  Beyond that, however, why would you be his go to?  He could literally have anyone.  Hell, he probably even had a little black book of gods and goddesses tucked away somewhere that he cycled through every millennia or so.  

 

“I don't know where that noodle of yours is headed, but it needs to slow down,” he told you, hand sliding over yours.  You didn’t feel the usual hum of energy dip beneath the surface, but the way your nerves eased, he must have used it.  You felt so much of him beneath your skin still you were probably just unable to tell the difference.

 

“As for me… Well, don't worry, cupcake.  You’ll know when I want something.”  His fingers grasped yours, drawing them upward.  He paused, the back of your hand hovering just at his lips and you watched a slow smile spread across his face.  Not the playful one he tended to toss your way.  Not even the smug one you expected would be splashing self-satisfied at another job well done.  It wasn’t even like the one earlier that let you know just how much you were in for.  This one was new and harder to decipher.

 

His brows gave a final dance, mouth pressing lightly to skin before he disappeared.  The sudden absence has your heart skipping a beat and your hand dropping.  Only instead of it hitting empty space, it fell directly onto a plate of warm cookies.  You snatched one up, popping it into your mouth before it had a chance to cool.  

 

It was softer than you imagined, fluffier, and your mouth exploded in a familiar mixture of decadent chocolate and spice.  How he managed to turn Mexican chocolate cake into a cookie, you’d never know, but it was delicious and exactly what you were craving.

 

You popped another in your mouth before setting the plate aside.  It was a relief to know where you two stood and an even bigger one that Gabe was of the mindset that simpler was better.  

 

There was nothing simple, however, about that look he had given you.  That look was full of promises you couldn't even begin to understand and as you settled onto your side, you couldn't help but wonder, what exactly had you gotten yourself into?


End file.
